


Fjord and Sabien make a bet

by Vault_Emblem



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Anal Sex, Awkward Flirting, Bets & Wagers, Casual Sex, First Time, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Pre-Canon, forgive me travis, we know that Fjord isn't suave at all
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-28
Updated: 2018-11-28
Packaged: 2019-09-01 10:55:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16763764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vault_Emblem/pseuds/Vault_Emblem
Summary: A certain goliath barbarian catches Fjord's interest.Sabien makes a bet.





	Fjord and Sabien make a bet

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I’ll just say it now so it doesn’t come up in the comments.  
> Yes, I use hyphens for dialogues and quotation marks for thoughts. Why? Because this is how we do in Italy, the country I’m from (actually there’s more freedom in Italy and more than one method to use this kind of punctuation but whatever).  
> This is the method I’ve learned and the one I’m used to, and I don’t think I’ll even change it.  
> Please, I beg you, stop pointing it out, it’s starting to get really annoying, especially when that’s the only thing people comment about.

Saying the tavern’s crowded would be an understatement; still Fjord doesn’t mind too much: he’s found a safe isolated spot and he’s enjoying a deep conversation with Sabien. Well, the only deep thing about this conversation is how deep Sabien would like to shove his cock inside that cute bartender over there, but we digress.

\- Then go talk to her -, he teases him, smirking, but Sabien remains unshaken.

\- Only if you go talk to him -, he teases back, pointing with his head to the huge goliath Fjord’s been observing since he noticed him and smirking at the way Fjord’s face is already getting of a darker shade of green.

When he hears that, Fjord almost spills the beer he was drinking out of his mouth but he manages to keep it together, even if barely.

\- Sabien, you ass -, he mutters, lightly shoving him with his shoulder as the other bursts into laughter.

\- How about we make a deal? -, he asks then, and Fjord knows that he shouldn’t listen, that usually his ideas only end up in them getting in trouble, that tomorrow they’ll depart so he should rest, but the part of him that loves risks can’t help but to rise at that question.

\- I’m listening… -.

\- We both try to get laid tonight -, Sabien starts, - And whoever can’t make it gets stuck to cleaning duty until our next docking -.

\- Until our next docking?! -, Fjord echoes him.

Who knows how long it will take until then. They could be talking about weeks or even months spent cleaning the ship.

Also, Fjord is at clear disadvantage in here because, unlike Sabien, he has completely no game. He sucks at this kind of stuff and there’s no way he could ever convince that hunk of a man to sleep with him.

This is basically the same as handing Sabien a free pass on cleaning duty for who knows how long.

\- Sure -.

Sabien smirks.

\- I knew you would’ve accepted. You, my friend, are a very brave man. Good luck -.

… Ok, Fjord might’ve done something stupid.

He doesn’t know why his brain has decided to agree to this, but he knows that it’s too late to take it back – though part of him suspects that Sabien wouldn’t have taken a “no” for answer either way – and he has to live with this.

Oh well, he might as well just accept that cleaning duty will be his life from now it. He can live with this, he thinks.

He stares and the big goliath guy intent on crushing yet another guy at an arm wrestling contest. By now he must’ve defeated the entire tavern.

He stares at his muscles, big as much as he is, he stares at his luscious beard, at his tattoos that cover his body and he makes a decision.

He barely registers his body moving until he’s seated in front of the guy he should be wooing.

What the hell is he doing?

Now that he’s sitting right in front of him he realises how huge he is. Sure, he looked big before, but now that he’s so close to him… This really is a big boy.

He should probably say something no, wait, he should _definitely_ say something, but nothing cool enough or suave enough comes to mind.

Shit. Damn you Sabien and your dumb challenges and damn him for falling for them every time.

\- You’re pretty -.

It’s just a statement, but the way the guy slurs every word makes it pretty clear to Fjord that he mustn’t be completely sober.

Also wait, did he just call him pretty?

Fjord tries to keep a straight face.

He’s not very good with compliments – years of being teased and bullied for how he looks have left a mark on him no matter how hard he tries to shake it off – but he tries to remember that this stranger must mean those words. He’s not making fun of him.

\- T-thanks -, he replies, trying to sound confident.

… If he doesn’t act quickly the dude might lose interest or maybe even leave, but what should he do? Think Fjord, Fjord.

\- You seem pretty strong -.

What the hell, Fjord?

The goliath laughs, a thunderous laugh that almost shakes the entire tavern.

\- Yes, I’m both pretty and strong -, he says, and Fjord gets the impression that this guy might not be very smart, which is totally fine. Smart isn’t something he needs now.

\- You wanna get your ass kicked too? -, the goliath asks then, extending his arm towards Fjord.

Oh no. Absolutely no. There’s no way Fjord can get out of this alive…

\- Sure -.

Goddamn it.

Oh well, he can’t back up from this too, so he might as well go along with it.

\- I want a kiss if I win -, he stutters before he can stop himself. He’s sure somewhere around Sabien is having a big old laugh at his expense, and he’s completely justified.

Even the stranger laughs at his idiocy.

\- You’re a funny one, you -, he manages to say once he’s kinda calmed down, - You really think you’re gonna win? -.

Absolutely not, but what can Fjord do?

He really walked right into this, didn’t he?

\- Speechless, huh? -, the other mutters, his amusement pretty clear, - Well, I wanna a prize too then, when I win -.

\- And what would that be? -, Fjord asks, suddenly weary. This might not bode well for him.

He already has a future of cleaning duty ahead of him, what else can be added to his misery?

The goliath smirks.

\- ‘S a secret -.

… All right. So be it.

It can’t get worse than it already is, right?

Fjord stretches his hand too and he clasps the other’s.

He might be about to eat his words.

To be fair to him, he lasted at least a couple of second before the goliath fucking obliterated him, slamming his hand against the table with such force that it gets numb. He can take it as a win.

He hears the whole tavern shout in rejoice at that, and he thinks he’s spotted a few crewmates as well. They must’ve been assisting to the exchange.

Damn it. He’ll be the crew’s clown if he keeps up like that.

The goliath orders drinks for everybody, so at least the atmosphere is serene.

Fjord wonders if he remembers about the wager they’ve made before starting – mostly because he’s not bringing it up – and he decides to do the smart thing and not to mention anything.

His life on the ship is going to be much harder until their next docking but at least for this night he’ll be able to get away scot free.

The big guy seems amicable, which is nice. Even though Fjord challenged him, he’s talking to him like an old friend.

He raises his mug in the half-orc’s direction with a smile on his face and Fjord returns the gesture.

He then realises that, despite having challenged him, he still hasn’t asked for his name. How was he supposed to woo him if he doesn’t even do the basics?

\- What’s your name? -.

\- Grog, Grog Strongjaw -, the goliath replies, and that name does seem to ring a bell. Fjord must’ve heard it before, but he doesn’t remember where or when or why.

\- A good name -, he mutters before noticing that the other is looking at him expectantly, an implicit question in the air.

\- I’m Fjord -, he quickly adds then, managing not to stammer his words. Hey, maybe he’s getting the hang of this.

\- Well, Fjord -, Grog starts, putting a lot of emphasis on the half-orc’s name, - I believe it’s time for the prize, what do you say? -.

Oh shit. So he did remember it.

Fjord swallows and he asks:

\- And what should that be? -.

Grog smirks as he rises up from the chair he’s been sitting on.

\- It’s a surprise -, he says and makes motion to the other to follow him, and well, what choice does Fjord have?

He wonders where they’re going to as he follows Grog up the stairs; is it possible that he has a room in there?

It could be, but even then, what does he want to do to him? Part of him is hopeful that maybe he’s managed to impress him with his boldness, but it’s also likely that he just wants to beat the shit out of him; Grog looks like the kind of guy who would enjoy that after all.

He doesn’t realize that Grog’s come to a halt until he feels himself being grabbed by the shoulders and shoved against something. He feels his back hitting the hard wood and, as he tries to find something to grapple or to hold onto, his hand comes in contact with the handle of what must be a door. Is it the door to Grog’s room?

The goliath’s leaning over him and, maybe for the first time in what feels like forever, Fjord feels small, very small, compared to his massive size.

\- So… -, Grogs begins, his voice even lower than usual, - You wanted a kiss, didn’t you? -.

\- I… -, Fjord begins, not exactly knowing what to say.

He feels like he’s going to be wrong no matter how he replies to him; he could say that it was all a joke, but who knows, maybe the other will get offended at that anyways.

Thankfully Grog steps out and he adds:

\- I want more -.

Ooooh shit. Did Fjord heard correctly?

And he thought he was doing very poorly.

He can’t deny being a little preoccupied, though: he only had one experience in that subject, and it wasn’t a very pleasant one.

They have docked and enjoying themselves at a local tavern – much like this one – and there was this woman who wouldn’t stop coming onto him, despite his disinterest. Fjord has never been good at pushing people away, especially those few people who looked interested in him, and he didn’t know what to do; the rest of the crew continued to incite him to pursue her and she was more than willing, so he did what he thought he should’ve done. It didn’t end well.

He tries to shoo away that memory to focus again on the goliath against him.

This time it feels different. Sure, there’s the whole bet with Sabien that he made, but that’s not the only reason why he’s pursuing this.

He wants this.

\- I’d be down for that -, he mutters, his breath already labored. He can’t believe he’s already in these conditions; they’ve only just begun.

Grog smirks before pressing his lips against Fjord’s as a noise of surprise escapes the other.

He should’ve expected that it was going to be intense, but still he lets himself be overwhelmed by the goliath, letting him take whatever he wants to take.

He holds onto the other’s arms and gods even just by touching his muscles he can feel a shiver going down his spine.

Grog turns the handle and he opens the door, shoving Fjord inside; he does all of this, of course, without breaking the kiss, and Fjord can’t help but to be impressed. He must have a lot of experience.

He feels the other pulling him up and he lets himself be manoeuvred as he pleases – what else can he do – and he holds onto him with his legs, now tight around the goliath’s waist.

He can feel a pressure against his ass; it appears that Grog’s getting really into it and Fjord can’t lie, he is as well.

He doesn’t even realise that Grog’s moving until his back hits something soft. It must be the bed.

He feels the massive size of the other pushing his legs further apart to accommodate him better, and what a sight, having him so close.

Grog’s hands travel from Fjord’s knees up to his thigh, until they reach his hips.

\- Wanna takes these off? -, he asks. He’s talking about his clothes.

Fjord hesitates for a moment because maybe this is a bad idea, maybe he shouldn’t have said yes, but damn it he wants it, he wants it so bad.

\- Yes -.

\- I can take it -, Fjord moans as Grog adds a fourth finger.

It’s taking so long that it’s almost excruciating for Fjord, but he can’t deny how good those fingers alone feel. His cock must be even better.

Grog chuckles at that. He must be finding this very amusing.

\- We’ll see about that -, is all he says as he start to push his fingers in and out of Fjord at a slow, but relentless, speed, making the other arch his back and moan in frustration.

They’ve been going at it for a long time, now.

He feels so wet and sticky that he might as well be forever attached to this bed, but Grog is good to shut down his restlessness as he kisses his inner thigh, beard tickling his sensitive skin, with promises of a very good time, and Fjord believes him.

Only once he thinks that the half-orc is ready Grog withdraws his fingers from Fjord – feeling quite smug at the whine that escapes his pretty lips – and he looks at him as he starts to unbuckle his belt.

Fjord can’t believe his eyes once the goliath strips completely naked; he’s so big… everywhere. How can that fit inside him? Will it fit inside of him?

Surprisingly, Fjord is very eager to find the answer to that question.

\- You ready? -, Grog asks, getting close to Fjord.

The other nods, despite not really knowing it himself. He’s definitely willing to try, though.

Grog seems to sense his tenseness and he mutters:

\- I know it’s a lot. I can stop whenever you want -.

\- I appreciate that -, Fjord replies, more confident now. If it turns out too bad he can always call it a night; Grog seemed honest when he said that he was willing to stop.

The goliath nods and, after grabbing Fjord’s thigh to have more leverage, he begins to press his cock inside the other’s entrance.

It burns. It burns it burns it burns.

It’s just the tip and Fjord feels already so stretched out, oil dripping down on the sheets. Thank goodness they had the good sense to lubricate before trying, or else he might’ve been dead.

As more gets inside, it also gets easier for Fjord to handle it. He’s slowly getting used to it.

This isn’t something he’s ever tried before and he’s starting to regret this.

Grog stops once he’s half in, giving Fjord some time to breathe.

\- You ok? -, he asks, and Fjord nods.

\- More -, he moans, making Grog smirk.

He leans over Fjord, his hot breath ghosting against the other’s neck, making him shiver.

\- Aren’t you an impatient one? -, he says, pressing further inside Fjord, who would love to reply with something clever, but nothing comes to mind. He’s too focused on that huge dick inside of him to think about words.

He feels teeth clenching around his skin and he squirms under Grog’s weight as the other bites him.

His vision is starting to get blurry but he manages to hold on. He doesn’t want to give up just yet.

\- Look at you, taking my cock like a champ -.

Fjord moans. Those praises are having way too much effect on him that he would’ve anticipated. Who knew that he was going to learn something new about himself even in a situation like this?

He reaches out for Grog’s face and he draws him closer, kissing his lips. The other returns the gesture eagerly as he starts to withdraw from inside of him only to push back in with great strength, making Fjord jump from the surprise.

His hands go down to Grog’s face to his neck and then his back, keeping him as close as possible as the goliath repeats the motion again and again and again.

He doesn’t even realise he’s scratching Grog’s back until he feels him shiver against him. He must like it.

Grog surely has a great stamina. Fjord has no idea about how long it’s been but he’s getting used to this relentless rhythm, as much as you can get used to something like that.

His skin from his neck to his shoulders is a mess of hickeys and bite marks and he doesn’t mind a bit. Sabien is going to eat so much shit when they see each other again.

It’s when Grog grabs his cock, starting to masturbate him as he’s still pounding inside of him, that Fjord starts to lose it.

All those whimpers and moans only make him look hotter and hotter to Grog, who’s enjoying the whole show, never taking his eyes off the half-orc.

It’s so good. It feels so good.

Tension is building up inside Fjord’s stomach until he can’t hold it anymore. He needs release, he needs it now.

\- I’m… I’m gonna… -.

He tries to warn Grog, but he finds himself coming before he can finish that sentence.

It’s so intense that he almost blacks out, so he tries his best to focus on the only thing that he can see in front of him: Grog. He looks deeply focused, biting his lip – maybe in order not to scream, or maybe Fjord’s just projecting – but soon he comes too, still inside Fjord.

It’s… a weird sensation to say at least, but Fjord’s too worn out from his high to take notice of that.

Despite Grog having done all the work he doesn’t looks nearly as tired as Fjord does.

He’s sure he’s going to feel sore all over the next day but, as Grog helps him get cleaned up and he offers a massage – he says he’s very good at that but somehow Fjord doubts that he has enough carefulness for it to be true – he can’t say he minds.

He feels a bit awkward, now that they’ve both calmed down, but honestly, he thought this was going to be way worse. He can’t help but to be influenced by Grog, who’s acting pretty casual about it.

In the end, this wasn’t anything too big, just a one-night stand with a stranger, nothing more, nothing less.

At least Grog, seeing the state Fjord’s in, offers to let him sleep there, something that the half-orc appreciates. He doubts he’d be able to move at the moment.

Sure, the space is a bit cramped with both he and Grog on the bed, but he’s used to it; if you think that sleeping in a ship is any better, think again.

Actually, Fjord notices as a pleasurable surprise, Grog doesn’t even snore half as much as other dudes he’s had to bunk with.

Sleeps comes soon to him, exhaustion taking over his brain, and Fjord falls in a dreamless sleep.

When he wakes up, Grog’s still deeply asleep.

Fjord rises from the bed, hissing at how much his back hurts, and he starts to pick up his clothes. His ass hurts to bad but this is a good practice in order to pretend that he’s fine; he surely doesn’t want the whole crew to know that he got laid that day – even though he suspects that they’ll catch on anyways.

After he gets dressed he turns to look at Grog. He’s still asleep.

What should he do? Should he just go or should he wake him up?

In the end he decides to spare both of them from the embarrassment but, before leaving, he leans down to kiss the top of Grog’s head.

He doesn’t know why he did that. He guesses that’s his own way to thank him for that night, but he’s not very sure of it.

He just followed his instinct.

\- Goodbye, Grog… Thanks for everything -.

He reunites with his crew and they all get back to the ship.

Everything seems to be all right; nobody seems to have noticed that Fjord’s walking kind of weird or if they did, they didn’t ask anything, which would be very strange so they mustn’t have noticed it.

It’s going great, until Fjord feels an arm around his neck.

\- Heeey, Fjord! -.

It’s Sabien.

Fjord can’t help but to smirk as he greets him back:

\- Hey, Sabien -.

\- So… I guess I’ll have to clean up the ship all alone, huh? -, Sabien says, looking both bummed out and amused at the same time. How does he manage that is a mystery.

\- How do you know that? -, Fjord asks, making Sabien chuckle.

\- No offense Fjord, but you are walking kind of funny -.

\- Sooooo… was it good? -.

Nope. They’re not having this conversation.

\- Gentlemen don’t kiss and tell -, Fjord replies, making Sabien sigh.

\- C’mon, man -, he mutters, - You can at least alleviate my pain with a fun story -.

\- You’re the one who suggested this -, the other replies with crescent amusement. For once, it’s Sabien the one who’s the butt of the joke; finally.

\- I’ll buy you a beer when we dock -.

Fjord shakes his head.

\- Nice try -.

Sabien rolls his eyes, feigning annoyance.

\- You’re such a gentleman, Fjord -, he says, - All right, keep your secrets from me, you bastard -.

Fjord laughs at that, and soon Sabien joins him, until Vandren scolds them for losing time doing nothing and puts them to work.

Fjord’s still hurting all over but he doesn’t mind; he’s pretty satisfied, more than that actually.

The night didn’t go as he initially thought, but for once he’s glad about it. He couldn’t have asked for anything better.

He can’t help but to wonder about Grog, though, and a thought strikes him: will they ever meet again?

Deep down, he hopes they will.


End file.
